


My Human || My Irken

by sammys_lover



Series: October writing challenge '19 [20]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Blood, Bonding, Costume Party, Dating, Domestic, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gir is yours and Zim's baby and you can't change my mind, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Halloween Writing Challenge, Kinda, Minor Injuries, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Zim loves you, for now, growing relationship, mild violence, sigh, tired parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover
Summary: I think it's safe to say that you and Zim have become so close that you can be formally considered Gir's mama!Now, where is that little robot, anyway?(This fic connects to Alliance, In My Sweater, and "Affection")





	My Human || My Irken

Oh, what a night. 

If you’d told me a year ago that I would be running around searching for my alien partner’s robot who is also sort of his, or our, kid at a Halloween party, I would have said: “That sounds like a scrapped twilight zone episode.” 

And yet here I am. 

Zim had been able to enter the party easily, on account of the fact he had a “costume.” 

I don’t know why they only let people in if they were wearing costumes, but that’s the way the news goes. I had gotten hastily dressed in some bushes in something I'm sure will land me in some deep trouble later, but it’s gonna have to do for now. 

Once I’m in, I can barely hear anything over the music as I do my best to look casual. 

The place is jam-packed, people stumbling around, dancing, bumping and grinding to the beats in the halls. I’m doing my best to not get pulled into anything. 

Now, where would Zim be? 

The loud music blares around me as I dance my way over to the snack table, where I knew Zim would be hiding out, looking for Gir. 

And he was, standing in the corner, looking awkward and reclusive. 

I know we’re here for something important, but I can’t help but want to mess with him. Just a little. 

“Zim!” I call over the music as I reach him, his wide eyes scanning me as he realized what I was supposed to be. 

“What’d you think?” I smile, doing a twirl. His face immediately flushing, he stares down into his punch, as if he was trying to decide what his next move was supposed to be. 

I was dressed as – what else – an alien. Complete with contacts and everything, and I’d just so happened to have one of Zim’s uniforms in my pack for when whatever he was wearing became soaked with blood and such. As far as the green skin goes, don’t ask. Just don’t ask why I have body paint on me. The main thing to focus on here is that I look like a genuine Irken. Well, as close as a human could get. And it's pretty funny, actually.

“I-It’s- you...” He stares, suddenly moving to stand beside me by the table. “I suppose imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.” He takes a quick sip of his drink, moving to take my hand and drag me along with him across the dance floor, and out of sight. 

The two of us move into a closet, where I can hardly see his face in the dark. It’s much quieter in here. 

“What are you trying to do here, earthworm?” 

He pins me against the door, much to my shock. His voice is quiet – almost dangerous. But I'm almost certain he wouldn’t hurt me. 

“Wha-” 

“Attempting to distract me with your...” His eyes look over me once, a blush betraying him. “...attire?” 

I can’t help but let out a giggle. 

“No, I'm not. But,” I smile, holding eye contact with him. “It is for you.” 

He presses flush against me, probably trying to make himself seem bigger and a little more intimidating. 

“Is it an attempt to expose me?” 

I shake my head ‘no,’ refusing to seem the least bit afraid. Because in all truth, I'm not. I’ve seen him scream and scramble because of the rain, hiding under my jacket for cover before. I’ve made out with him. Nerd. 

“...Is this an attempt at pathetic human seduction?” 

He squints at me when I snort, only a little bit of laughter escaping me before I regain my composure. 

He looks as though he’s actually considering kissing me here, of all places, when the closet is opened, and we both tumble backwards, Zim landing on top of me, pinning me to the floor. 

It’s such an awkward position it’s almost funny. 

We scramble apart quickly, looking up to see a scoffing Gaz. 

I leap to my feet, straightening what I was wearing as I tried to smile politely. “Hey! Have you seen Gir anywhere?” I’m so happy she can’t see me blush under this face paint. 

“Dance floor, lovebirds. Now scram, I need somewhere to charge this.” She holds up some sort of game console, nudging Zim to the side as she went to enter the closet. Oh, I guess there’s an outlet in there.

Rude.

She shuts the door, and Zim and I shoot each other a look before making our way to the dance floor, looking around for our goddamn son. I don’t know how he got in here in the first place, for fuck’s sake. 

I’m dancing absentmindedly as I scan around for him, and I spot Zim shoving people aside as he searches for him. What I’m not expecting is a hand to grip my arm, dragging me off the dance floor and spinning me around to face whoever had a death grip on me. 

“I’VE GOT YOU NOW, ZI-” The person before me stopped dead in his actions and sentence when I face him, confusion written clear across both of our faces. It’s Dib dressed up as an FBI agent. Of course, it’s Dib. 

I open my mouth to shout at him to let go of me before I break his wrist, but Zim beats me to the punch. 

Zim comes between us in an instant, twisting Dib’s arm back and away from me, pulling me behind him protectively and straight-up hissing at Dib. 

Jesus. 

“This will be your only warning, filthy Dib-pig! Touch this, MY, human again – so much as touch her and infect her with your stupidity, and the mighty Zim will liquify your pathetic, weak body!” 

Wh- 

HIS human? 

Zim squeezes Dib’s arm harshly before roughly throwing it away from him, which makes Dib wince and hold his arm close, his glare never faltering. 

As if on cue, I spot Gir, who is swinging from the chandelier above the dance floor. 

I tap Zim’s shoulder, and he looks at me after a second’s hesitation, not wanting to let Dib out of his sight. 

“Found your boy.” 

I point to Gir, and Zim groans in annoyance before taking out some sort of laser gun and shooting the chain that connected the light fixture to the ceiling, letting it fall with a crash onto the dancing people below. 

Dib and I barely have time to shout for him to, y’know, not fucking do that before it’s already done, a few dancing people falling to the floor, either unconscious or dead. 

“Let’s go, Gir!” Zim sounds like an exhausted dad, and Gir looks over to him, shoulders slumping when he realizes it’s time to go home. 

I run to the humans on the floor, checking for a pulse on the two people who hadn’t gotten up yet. Thankfully, it wasn’t a huge chandelier, and they’re still alive. 

I huff as I stand, glaring at the spot where Zim and Dib stand, probably about to deck each other or something. 

“Hey!” My call for Zim is sharp, and cuts through the music, drawing his eyes right towards me. Unfortunately, as he watched me stalk back towards them, Dib took the chance to grab the front of Zim’s uniform, raising his arm – probably to strike him for bringing the chandelier down. 

I shout, beating Dib to the punch by punching him square in the nose. He releases Zim, stumbling backwards, his hand flying up to cover the spot I'd punched him. 

After he’d sliced Zim like he did that day I'd treated his wound, it felt pretty good. Not literally, though. I think I really hurt my hand. Is it right to punch this guy? Probably not, but who gives a shit? I made out with an alien last week. My moral compass is constantly spinning in a circle. 

When lift Gir up with my uninjured hand and sit him on my hip, I make a point of standing protectively in front of Zim. I can hear him laughing, the smug son of a bitch. 

Dib and I glare at one another, and I take a step back wordlessly, holding my reddening fist to my chest, turning my attention to Zim. 

“C’mon,” I take a shaky breath to steady myself, trying to continue looking tough. 

Dib shouts something about this “not being over!” as we walk away, but I'm not really listening. 

The walk back to the cruiser is uneventful, aside from Zim’s snickering over Dib’s punch to the face. When we get in his spacecraft, which was disguised, I hop in with Gir excitedly relaying the events of his night as he sits in my lap. 

When Zim starts up the craft, he takes a look at me, noting my teary eyes as I carefully removed my black glove, examining my hand. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

I sniffle, a teary “Yeeeeeeeeeees,” leaving me before I laugh at the ridiculousness. 

He scoffs, a small laugh escaping him as his eyes scanning my hand, which seemed to be okay aside from a little blood. 

“Your inferior body is too fragile,” He scolds, tsking. I stare off into the distance like I'm on the office looking into the camera before replying, not noticing how Gir was starting to fall asleep in my lap, hugging my arm. 

“Thanks?” 

Zim gives me a dry laugh before he gets comfortable as he pilots, and I do my best to relax, thankful my hand was only stuck with some bloodied knuckles. 

“Hey uh,” I start, his disguised violet eyes flicking towards me momentarily as I catch his attention. “What you said back there, about me being your human...” 

He looks like a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

After a moment of silence, he gives me a quick and curt answer before he starts up on a completely different subject. 

“Yes, yes, feel HONORED that the amazing Zim has chosen you, a smelly human, as the one being on this planet who should continue to live out their pathetic existence!” Before I know it, the three of us are back at his base. “Now, tell me – is Dib-filth just as fragile as your silly hand?” 

I laugh, closing my eyes as I lean my head back against the seat. 

“I’ll tell ya all about how fragile humans can be if you patch up my hand.” 

He squints before nodding. 

“Fine.” 

We get out of the cruiser, and I could swear I hear him muttering something to himself in Irken – something about...equipping me with something. Probably something to allow me to punch Dib without bringing harm to myself. 

For a homicidal invader, he sure does have a soft spot for me. 

Cute. 

Not that I'll ever say that to his face. 

But still very cute nonetheless.


End file.
